“I’ve already told him about how you impressed me over dinner,” Brian says, “and how delighted you were about my offer.”
“Right.” I shoot him a confused look. “Of course, your offer.”
“I can’t remember if I mentioned it last night, but on top of the generous stipend and new living arrangements, you’ll also have access to a company vehicle. That is, should you choose to accept the paid internship position.”
My thoughts swim around in my head like disorganized schools of fish. Brian didn’t say anything last night about giving me a job. But the more I think about it, the more it starts to make sense. If I’m working for Brian, my dad won’t question why I’m spending so much time in his office—or at his house, for that matter, since it sounds like I’ll be moving out of my dad’s place. We can be free to kiss and touch and play whatever games we feel like playing, by our own rules, whenever we want.
“It sounds like my dream job,” I tell him.
Brian’s mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile too broadly. “Your dad agrees with me that this is an excellent opportunity for you.”
My dad clears his throat, looking equal parts stunned and relieved at the prospect of having me out of his hair, not to mention his guestroom. “An amazing opportunity, Mr. Murdoch. No doubt about it. But are you sure Ruby’s qualified?”
“She’s the perfect candidate. Not that I’d expect you to know a damn thing about your daughter’s qualifications.” His expression goes from warm and courteous to stone cold in the span of a second.
“I’m sorry, what?” My dad shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I can’t believe Brian just said that to my father. Nobody’s ever stood up for me like that, not even my mom.
It feels amazing to finally have someone in my corner.
“Mr. Clark, I have valued your contributions to this firm in the past. However, it has come to my attention that when it comes to parenting, your performance has been downright abysmal.”
The fact that Brian has just spoken about my father’s contributions as though they’re ancient history doesn’t go unnoticed; my dad looks like he’s about to have a stroke.
“I’ll admit leaving the States has made it difficult for me to keep in touch with my daughter.” My dad eyes me warily. “But I don’t see what bearing that has on my work here at the firm.”
“On the contrary,” Brian says, “your history of neglect tells me everything I need to know about the man sitting in front of me.”
“Mr. Murdoch, whatever Ruby told you is—”
“No longer your concern.” Brian fixes my dad with a glare that means business. “Simply put, you don’t deserve to know your daughter, and she deserves better than you. As does this firm.”
“Sir, I have dedicated my life to this firm!”
“And therein lies the problem,” says Brian. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to clean out your desk, turn over your phone and the keys to the company car. In fact, you can go ahead and hand those things off to Ruby right now. Because you’re done here, Mr. Clark.”
“This is insane.” My dad leaps to his feet. “You can’t fire me—”
“I can, and I have.”
The veins in my dad’s forehead bulge like the raised patterns on the backs of leaves. He turns to me. “What the hell did you say to him, Ruby?”
“She simply told the truth,” says Brian.
“This isn’t just my work you’re messing with, little girl. It’s my whole life!”
“I was supposed to be your life, Dad. Me, your little girl.” I swallow hard, shocked by the force of my own voice. “You chose work over me every single chance you had.”
“Is this about last night?” He scrubs at his face. “Look, I’m sorry I cancelled our dinner, but we can go out later—”
“Save your bullshit apology.” If he thinks he’s getting out of this by offering to take me out for gourmet mac and cheese, he’s deluded. “You can’t buy my forgiveness.”
Brian rises from his chair. “I’ll have Liz fetch Ruby’s things from your house this afternoon. If I can make a suggestion, now might be a good time to find yourself something to live for outside of work.” He offers his hand to my father. “I can't thank you enough for bringing Ruby to me.”
My dad stares at Brian’s hand for a long, tense moment but doesn’t offer his own.
“She’s all yours,” my dad says bitterly. “I hope she’s worth the lawsuit I intend to bring down on your heads.”
Without so much as a glance in my direction, my dad marches out of the office, and my life, forever.